The Tyrant's Happy Ending - Chapter 11.4

But now was not the time. He turned as a young acolyte approached, breathless and anxious.

“Ah…! Your Holiness, there you are! Lady Iliana wishes to discuss how the dawn prayer should address this situation. She urgently requests an audience with you.”

Iden nodded, forcing his expression into a mask of solemnity.

“I’ll be there shortly.”

“Yes, Your Holiness. I’ll inform her.” The acolyte bowed and hurried off, his robes fluttering behind him.

Alone again, Iden allowed a bitter chuckle to escape. The idea of himself as the righteous shepherd of the faithful was a farce, an irony not lost on him. This empire’s single spiritual guide, he thought, a priest cloaked in ambition, wearing faith like armor.

He turned to descend the grand staircase, catching a final glimpse of his reflection in the polished glass. It was a face sculpted for power, framed by the pretense of sanctity.

“Indeed,” Iden murmured, taking the first step down, “the divine has a cruel sense of humor.”

In the Petra Marquisate, the only family that had historically produced popes, he was born with exceptional divine power and the ability to hear oracles. The position of pope was naturally meant to be his.

His father, the former Marquis of Petra, constantly told him that he and their family were the true rulers of the empire. Unlike the royal family, who, despite their divine bl00d, couldn’t hear the voice of God and were therefore useless, the Petra family could listen to the divine and convey His words.
With that, Eden grew up believing it was only natural that he would be the true master of the empire. The position was, for him, a seat of glory he was destined to claim.

Everything was perfect until he was nine years old.

“……”

Eden still remembered that day vividly. It was the day he was appointed as pope and the day he first met Yernen Helio.
The moment he saw the youngest prince with hair that shimmered with a pale golden hue and a face as white as snow, Eden realized for the first time that his position was not a blessing.

Up until that day, he had been able to have anything he desired.
His father, the Marquis of Petra, granted him everything he wanted, including the title of marquis that should have belonged to his shadow, his twin brother Eldin, and the papal seat. Eden enjoyed unmatched power.

There was nothing he couldn’t possess.

Except for one: Yernen Helio.

Clergymen were forbidden from having children. To remain pure and serve God, they would lose all their abilities the moment they fathered offspring. For this reason, Yernen Helio was forever out of Eden’s reach.

For the first time in his life, he felt rage at being unable to obtain what he desperately desired. As time passed, and as Yernen’s eyes increasingly revealed emotions when looking at Lyle Beltimore, Eden’s fury consumed him.

Day by day, dark, damp anger grew within him, stretching and spreading until it overwhelmed him. It reached the point where he could no longer bear it without tearing apart and destroying the one he could not have.

So he crafted a scenario of cruel tragedy, manipulating countless people as mere marionettes.

Throughout the unfolding of that scenario, he used people like disposable items—pathetic Emperor Harriet, Benjamin LeCruze, and others. It didn’t matter if the empire teetered or if his brother, who acted as his stand-in, was beheaded. He cared only for shattering Yernen Helio.

And that scenario seemed to reach its perfect conclusion, until the one he longed for reappeared before him, alive.
Eden Petra glared at the stained glass that reflected his image. It was an artwork crafted in honor of God’s likeness—a likeness he loathed with all his being.

With a twisted smile, he spoke to the figure.

“You should never have let me see Yernen Helio.”

He should never have been shown the unattainable or the untouchable if God didn’t want his offspring to meet a tragic end.

“But now, I’ve seen Yernen Helio.”

With sacrilege in his voice, Eden sneered at the God he served.
“This time, you will just watch helplessly as your beloved child rolls in the mud.”

No matter how many times he resurrected, it didn’t matter. He would trample him again and again until Yernen met a miserable end. If he couldn’t have him, then no one would.

‘Yernen Helio will become emperor. And his child, too, will become emperor.’

Eden recalled the first oracle bestowed upon him.
And he believed, as he had before, that the prophecy would never come true. If he couldn’t bear fruit, neither should Yernen.
“Soon, there will be no trace of your bl00d left on this land, and your words will no longer be heard. Stripped of faith, you will fade into oblivion.”

Contrary to popular belief, the Petra bloodline was not the only one capable of producing a pope. It was an illusion they maintained. The reason only the Petra family had produced popes was that they had killed off anyone else with the potential.
Now, no one outside their family had been born with the divine ability to hear God, securing their monopoly over the papacy.
But soon, even the Petra line would come to an end. Once he killed Yernen Helio and the child hidden away by his weak twin brother Eldin, it would be over.

“It’s a perfect conclusion, isn’t it?”

It was revenge against the God who showed him the unattainable.
Yes, it was revenge. Vengeance for making him see Yernen Helio.
There was still much to be done to obtain him. That was the purpose behind his meticulous scheme.

Clack. Clack.

The sound of heels echoed through the white corridor.

“Um… Your Majesty, where should I put this?”

A voice interrupted, repeating the same question for the nth time, causing Yernen’s clenched fist to tremble with frustration. If he didn’t punch that fool’s cheek immediately… he feared he wouldn’t be able to quell his anger.

However, Yernen knew from experience that the more he lost his temper, the more the fool stuttered and made a flurry of mistakes. Swallowing the burning anger that surged from deep within, Yernen calmly pointed to a corner of the document pile.
“Oh! Right. You just told me, but I forgot already.”

Justin laughed boisterously, placing the stack of papers where Yernen’s finger indicated, as Yernen struggled to maintain an uncharacteristic patience.

But that patience didn’t last long.

“Justin.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

This time, Yernen could no longer remain silent. With eyes full of barely restrained fury, he looked at Justin as if he was on the verge of sweeping away the pile of documents.

“Didn’t I tell you that this was something you should handle on your own?”

The document in Yernen’s hands was a request for approval for selecting new pages for the imperial palace, something that should have been processed by a lower-level official.
He had no idea how such an insignificant document had made its way to him.

Justin, who had taken the fluttering papers from Yernen, stared at them for a while, lost in thought, and then, as if he had finally grasped something, exclaimed.

“…Ah!”

“…Ah?”

Yernen wanted nothing more than to flip the table at that ridiculous sound. But doing so would ruin the neatly organized pile of documents, so all he could do was glare at Justin with the murderous intent of someone contemplating violence.

Seeing Yernen’s frosty stare, Justin eventually couldn’t hold back and shouted as if daring fate to open his stomach.

“Ah! What can I do? I’m not capable! I wasn’t supposed to be doing desk work like this in the first place, was I?”

“Hah.”

The shamelessness in Justin’s voice made Yernen sigh deeply as he pressed his temples, exhaustion creeping over him. Justin was uselessly thick-skinned.

Yet, Justin’s words weren’t entirely wrong. This predicament had arisen because Yuris had left, and Justin, who had barely sat behind a desk before, was saddled with the task.

After Lyle departed, Yernen had to act as emperor, with Yuris serving as his aide. Even when Yernen had been on the throne, Tenes, Aaron, and Yuris had taken turns assisting him, and things had run smoothly because of how well Yernen and Yuris worked together.

Additionally, Yuris was well-versed in administration as the Viscount of Camelion, and some even knew he had assisted in the emperor’s work before. It wasn’t surprising that the duties flowed seamlessly.

Thanks to this, Yernen could conduct meetings and handle affairs efficiently, always with Yuris at the forefront.

But then, a request for reinforcement by wizards came from the eastern front, where the army was suppressing the rebels. Yuris, the most powerful mage left in the palace, had no choice but to leave, plunging the situation into chaos.